Dwelling in Metaphor

“Intention doesn’t sweeten.” “One must have a mind of winter.” “The whitehot stars go rifling down the dark.” A brilliant metaphor is a glittering diamond; useful in some contexts, but great to keep around even when it’s doing nothing more than being pretty.

But why? What makes some of us so in love with clever imagery? Why do we thrill or melt or swoon—all metaphors, by the way—at figures of speech we have no practical need for? Above all, why do we sometimes choose to build a mountain of similes, swim in a lake of analogies, luxuriate in a warm bath of comparisons? Why use twenty images where one (or even zero) would do?

Drawing on examples from poetry, prose, parables, sitcoms, standup, and slang, this paper lays out a series of answers. Dwelling in metaphor, it suggests, strengthens our sense of community. It makes us notice (and appreciate) familiar aspects of the world around us, from telegraph poles to table legs. It bolsters our mental agility. It allows us to express ourselves, imprint our subjectivity on the world, release ourselves from the tyranny of time, and maybe even see everything from God’s point of view. It can go so far as to give us the feeling—the illusory but irresistible feeling—that everything is as it should be in a world for which we were made. We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the whitehot stars.